


dearly departed.

by bysonsee



Category: SISTAR
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 06:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11663241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bysonsee/pseuds/bysonsee
Summary: in which you're having a hard time and dasom is there.





	dearly departed.

**Author's Note:**

> cross posted to tumblr (minyeezy.tumblr.com)

Vodka has always been a least favorite of yours. When it wasn’t mixed with anything it was toxic and usually couldn’t get past the taste buds on the tip of your tongue, however, today had been an interesting day, and the strong taste of hard liquor was more than welcomed.

“I don’t like you drinking this stuff, I read somewhere that it can erode your enamel if you drink too much of it.” the woman of the night, Dasom, said sitting down beside you on your couch. She acted as if nothing was happening, and if someone were to compare your appearances, someone would think you were a little off.

You were a mess. You looked like a mess, you felt like a mess, you were the definition of a mess. You were wearing the same clothes you slept in last night, not bothering to change for anyone. There were dried tear streaks on your cheeks, your eyes puffy and your voice clogged and sounding muffled by the ever present lump in your throat. Dasom, however, looked just as beautiful as she always did. Everything she did seemed effortless. She looked at you with pain and pity.

“How did they find out? We were so careful…” You said, your voice trailing off into nothingness as your words went from a public question to a private thought.

“I don’t know but it’s okay, everything will blow over soon.” She said with a smile so sure that you could have believed her. The tears forming in the corners of her eyes gave away her true feelings.

“How can you say that? They’re tearing  _you_  apart and _I_  feel like that’s affecting me more than it is you.” You replied, your voice getting louder by the end of your sentence.

“I can’t just be sad all the time,” she said with a clenched jaw, “This is hard for me but it would make the rumors seem true if I was crying about it all ―”

“They aren’t rumors! You’re dating a girl. I’m your girlfriend, Dasom, you’re really going to call this a ‘rumor’?” She looked up at you with apologetic eyes, trying to excuse herself for her word choice. “Did you forget about me or something?”

“Of course I didn’t forget. It came out wrong, I’m sorry.” She said, her eyes cast downwards to look at her feet on the floor. It became quiet, uncomfortably so. There was so much to say and yet no one made a move to say anything. She reached her hand over, her palm grasping the neck of the vodka bottle and bringing it to her lips to take a long swig. Your eyes never left her, too entranced by her simple movements to think of anything other than  _her_.

“I love you. So much. But does it ever bother you that you’ll never be attracted to a man? That you’re somehow inconveniencing people by not being attracted to men?” You asked, she finally turned to look at you. Her eyes said a million words. Heartbreak just one of them.

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘bother’, but I do sometimes think about it. Why?”

“It’s weird, right? It’s like this thing that I was conditioned to have but it just never developed. Everyone else has it, and it makes me feel so fucked up like something is wrong with me because it’s just not there.”

“Baby, no, nothing is wrong with you or me. We’re simple. I love you and you love me, what’s fucked up about that? It’s going to be hard ―”

“It’s always been hard. I’m tired of it being hard. What did we ever do to make people hate us so much?” Your voice broke at the end of your sentence and that was it for Dasom.

“Please don’t cry, I have no idea what to do or say to make you feel better.” She pleaded, rubbing your arms gently. Suddenly getting an idea, she stopped her movements on your arms and began laying back on the couch, pulling you down with her. One arm was thrown around you, lightly scratching your back and the other moved up to play with your hair. “This is nice, right? Are you comfortable?” Your nod was small but it was present. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you worry.”

“I just didn’t want to see you cry.” She says dismissively. Her fingernails gently scraping over your clothed back were lulling you into tranquility. 

One part of your mind was still trying to convince you that you that what you were doing was wrong and disgusting. Another part of your mind told you that you were wrong for thinking those original thoughts. The two parts fought and fought inside your head, weighing pros and cons, supporting and opposing, and never reaching a conclusion.

“There’s nothing wrong with this, right?” you asked her, trying to distract yourself from the war you were waging on yourself.

“Not one single thing. There’s nothing about this that is anyone else’s business but ours either,” she said, “People will always look down on something as long as one other person says it’s okay. I think you’re pretty amazing, personally, so if you’re willing to listen to other people’s generalized opinions about you, please listen to mine as well.”

“What  _is_  your opinion about me?” 

“I think you have too much empathy, I mean look how upset you got at comments that were about  _me_! You also overthink things a lot, but that’s okay because I like to hear your tangents and rants, even if they make me sad sometimes. You have a really nice voice so I don’t mind what you’re saying as long as you don’t start crying.” She rambled, smiling fondly while looking up at the ceiling. 

“I think you have a weird way of comforting people. You’re kind of bad at it but you get the hang of it quickly. From ‘you think too much’ to ‘it’s okay as long as you vocalize these thoughts’.”

“My comforting techniques are my main charm.” She said trying to lighten the mood. It worked, as both of you cracked a small smile. “You should get some sleep, baby you’ll probably have a hangover tomorrow. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

 


End file.
